


The Queen's Prize

by Starbrow



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M, Outdoor Sex, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbrow/pseuds/Starbrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victory is sweet, but sometimes defeat is sweeter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen's Prize

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Battle XIV. Prompt: Caspian/Lucy, love, wrestle

The moon was at its fullest point that night, and the stars were high in the heavens by the time they had walked to the secluded stretch of beach that Lucy was looking for. They had walked for a good half an hour, sometimes talking, but more often enjoying the quiet of the evening together.

Caspian considered the terms of her invitation that evening: to swim with her as the Sea People did. He had never been able to get a precise description out of Drinian or Edmund of that elusive race far away across the Eastern Sea. And when he’d asked Lucy what she meant, she simply smiled that deliciously mischievous smile he’d grown to know so well, and said, “So you’ll come?”

He could hardly say no. Not that he wanted to.

Despite the years of adventures together, the days of riding and training and sailing and ruling, tonight felt different somehow. Alive. Almost dream-like. He gazed after the Queen, remembering his dreams of her, which ran the spectrum from adoration and awe to a speechless desire and many (he blushed to think of how many) nights of imagining her in his bed. But if they were to be any more than dreams, he needed some sign from her first. He did not want to injure their friendship with unwanted advances on his part.

Lucy walked ahead of him, the diaphanous folds of her gown caught by the breeze in a cloud of white, bare feet leaving faint footprints in the powdery sand. The soft crash of breakers to the East was the only sound around them.

At last she stopped, turning to look upon the gently rippling waters. Her face aglow in the soft light of the moon, she flung her head back and gazed up at the wide array of stars above, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. Caspian's eyes drifted to the curve of her throat.

Lucy did not speak for a few moments. Then she let out a long breath, and with an easy motion she laid her cloak on the ground and stood upon the shore, as proud and tall as a goddess, thought Caspian.

But as her hands moved to the laces of her bodice, deftly loosening the crossing ribbons, Caspian's thoughts were decidedly not that of a worshipper for a goddess, and he wished very much to replace her hands with his. All too quickly for the good of his composure, Lucy slipped the gown from her shoulders and let it fall, standing only in her silvery shift. Her skin glowed creamy-white in the moonlight, pale arms and legs and neck and…

Lucy, he reminded himself sternly. Queen Lucy. And the legendary Queen was starting to slide the delicate straps of her chemise off her shoulders. Caspian made a choking sort of noise.

"What's wrong?" asked Lucy with no self-consciousness whatsoever.

"You – erm – that is – I – " said Caspian, his cheeks burning. That was about as coherent as he was going to get.

Lucy smiled. "What did you think I meant by _swimming as the Sea People did_?" she said simply. The shift slid to the ground. 

Caspian's face went up in flames. He forced himself to look down, away, anywhere but the beautiful and very naked Lucy in front of him. The very idea was enough to set his imagination spinning to the secret dreams of his nights, and his thoughts much lower than where they were supposed to lodge. All of a sudden his southern region seemed to acquire a mind of its own, with its own quite stubborn philosophy as well. 

Fortunately she did not seem to notice his difficulty. Caspian heard her laugh softly. "Aren't you going to join me?" With those words, she danced lightly off toward the sea – he could see in his peripheral vision the nimble figure setting off down the gentle slope to the shoreline.

Very well. If it didn't matter to her, it shouldn’t matter to him either. With a deep breath, Caspian shrugged out of his cloak and thin linen shirt and added them to the pile of finery upon the beach. He couldn't keep himself from casting a quick glance at the not-so-distant form of Lucy as she stepped into the water. This, clearly, was a mistake so soon prior to removing his trousers. The curve of her backside was quite distinctly delineated by the bright light of moon and stars. 

"You promised," Lucy called sweetly, looking over her shoulder. The breakers were lapping around her calves.

This was when he wished he was more Narnian. The Old Narnians were remarkably unconcerned with nudity, he’d noticed. Many, many times. He should have expected the Sea People would be as well.

He raked his fingers through his hair. A Telmarine King, a noble one at least, would not have bathed naked with a woman not his wife. But he was not Telmarine any longer. He was Narnian. 

Caspian felt the cool breeze from the ocean on his skin as he shed the rest of his clothing, not nearly as gracefully as Lucy had. Thankfully, she was no longer looking in his direction for this inelegant disrobing or its inevitable revelations, being already waist-deep in the waves herself.

Feeling very exposed indeed, he made a break for it into the shelter of the dark water, which was cool but not shockingly enough for his taste. Lucy turned and waved at him, and Caspian was rewarded with a mesmerizing glimpse of her front side before she dove beneath the surface and began swimming. Toward him. Of course. He paddled further in so that at least he could stand comfortably. If that was the right word.

She surfaced close to him, now neck-deep when standing (he noted with a mixture of relief and disappointment), and brushed the wet hair from her face with her hands. "Isn't it wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Nothing like swimming so freely. I used to do it all the time in my day.”

“Well, yes, so have I, but usually...er...alone.” Caspian flashed her a bemused grin. “And I most certainly did not know that was what you meant.” 

Lucy laughed, a high pealing sound. "I told you, didn't I? This is how the Sea People always swim."

"Is it? I would have been quite intrigued to know this bit of information before blindly accepting.

She arched one amused eyebrow at him. "And what would be the fun in that?" she teased, floating around him.

Caspian had to agree; she had the element of surprise on her side. He was tempted to tease her back, that she made every occasion fun, surprise or no. 

“And more importantly,” Lucy continued, suddenly coming closer and looking up at him, “would it have changed your answer?”

Her proximity made his pulse race suddenly. Caspian’s gaze was drawn to the beads of water streaming from her hair down her neck and over her collarbone, and then back to her eyes, dancing with life.

The answer came easily. “It would not,” he said fervently.

She nodded. “Good. Next time perhaps I shall tell you more about the adventure to come. Although I do so love the look on your face when you are surprised!”

This all was sounding very encouraging: _good, next time, come, love..._

“And now,” said Lucy brightly, “let’s have a race! Last to kneel in the shallows loses. And I should warn you, I am a fierce competitor...but you know that already.” She glanced up at him, lips curving sweetly, and he had to stop himself from leaning in and tasting them. 

“A fine idea,” said Caspian, rising to meet her challenge and the spirit in which it was delivered, “but what shall be the winner’s prize?”

Her smile widened, and her voice dropped low. “The winner shall claim her own prize.”

Caspian bent his head towards her, matching her tone. “You are very sure it shall be you?”

“I don’t think I can lose,” said Lucy, very close now. He held his breath for a moment.

But she was turning and moving away, and Caspian felt an aching disappointment before realizing that she was about to start. As in, now.

" _Three-two-one-GO!_ " she cried, and swirled around into a dizzying overhand stroke for shore.

Caspian had no choice but to plunge after her with his best effort. He swam gracelessly but swiftly; however, she had half a second lead and kept up the lead all the way to the shallows. Midstroke, he lifted his head out of the water just in time to see her scramble to her knees and raise her hand in triumph...right in front of him. But it was too late to stop...

He collided into her, and they both went face-forward into the breakers. And in the spluttering aftermath of the collision, Caspian very quickly realized that he had a squirming, squealing, naked Lucy under him. In two feet of water. And a whole beach to themselves.

His reaction was instantaneous, and surely she could feel it, given the way she was twisting beneath him to face upwards and wriggling against him very thoroughly in the process. Yet Lucy seemed in no hurry to extract herself. He could feel tantalizing expanses of flesh against him every time she moved, could see her dripping figure bare from her waist to her streaming hair, and every impulse was screaming Surely this is the sign you’ve been waiting for!

“Caspian,” she said, her voice low and teasing, “I do believe I’ve won.”

She was right...of course, she had won. But right now, Caspian was feeling rather victorious himself. For several glorious moments, he enjoyed the sensations that were taking over as he matched her writhing movements, feeling her body brush against his and the cool water sliding over the skin.

Unfinished business, whispered the rather unwelcome logical side of his mind. Hang unfinished business! Lucy was making lovely little moans under him...

It might be even sweeter.

With great difficulty, Caspian wrestled himself to his knees. “Your prize, Lucy. You must claim it.” 

Lucy rose up too, kneeling in front of him, and suddenly his brain didn't seem to want to work in the slightest. “So you acknowledge my victory?” 

No words were coming out. "Er – buh – ar – yes." There! A word! Caspian very reluctantly pulled his gaze from the very enticing set of breasts before him and up to her face. She was openly laughing at him. 

Not only that, but she was openly ogling him. Her gaze skittered down his chest – why yes, he had been putting in extra hours on the Tilting Field with the quartermaster – and lingered around his hips where they disappeared below the surface. Whatever Lucy wanted, he certainly was not about to deny her anything she asked for.

Lucy scooted closer. She leaned in so that her mouth was close to his ear and her hand rested on his shoulder. He dared not move a muscle. "Then I shall claim my prize, here and now," she said in a murmur, right into his ear. _Oh my Queen, it would be my pleasure. Soon, hard, fast…_

Caspian exhaled slowly, attempting to control the raging desire that coursed through him. "As you wish, Queen," he said, lips against her temple.

Lucy tilted her head back and looked up at him through heavy lids. With her other hand she reached up and slid her cool fingers over his jaw, tracing the outline of his beard. Next thing he knew, she was clasping the back of his neck and drawing his head down and then her mouth met his and he was kissing Lucy. And not chastely somewhere in a garden or elegantly dressed at a ball, but knee-deep in the ocean with nothing but water between them.

Her kisses were eager and intoxicating, the yielding persuasion of her lips accompanied by enticing movements as she drew him close. Rational thought was abandoned entirely and he noticed only sensations: warm sweet mouth moving against his, soft breasts pressed to his chest, hands clutching his hair and the back of his shoulder, and all around him the feeling of _Lucy._

Caspian was on fire. The waves did not cool in the least bit his urge to make Lucy thoroughly, entirely his. And she made it so very easy to take her in his arms and pull her body flush against his. So he did. The torture was exquisite, from the feverish touch of her lips to the perfect fit of her body against his own. She made a soft contented sound at the sudden contact and eagerly wrapped her legs around him, pulling him down with her and sliding onto his lap. He groaned at the feel of her thighs sliding over his.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, like a wet willing Lucy in one's lap. Caspian could not get enough of her, kissing her upturned mouth with thirsty longing as his hands moved over her back, her hips...He wanted to know every bit of her all at once, though he knew he was being greedy, that their first kiss should be sweet and gentle and not at all this desperate frantic need…

"Lucy," he gasped as she writhed ever so intimately in his lap, seeking out the source of his aching desire. "You are – I mean – ah Lucy!"

She breathed a kiss against his neck, nuzzling the hollow under his jaw. "You're thinking too much," she said with a soft laugh. "Feel. Live. Be. You cannot want anything wrong here.”

Caspian's voice was very low. "I want you.”

Lucy ran her fingers down the side of his face. "Then show me," she said simply.

She had chosen. What more could he ask for?

He seized her around her waist, snaking one hand under her very luscious bottom, and Lucy gave the loveliest squeal of surprise as he hauled them up out of the water and flung her over his shoulder. In return she twined her legs around him and clutched his back instinctively. Caspian staggered through the breakers and up the beach, which seemed to take a very long time but in fact was only a few seconds, with Lucy teasing him with throaty laughs.

As he laid her down on their spread cloaks, the beauty of her completely revealed body took his breath away, and he couldn't help himself from savoring the sight for a moment. He had never seen anything more desirable than his Queen lying luxuriously under him in the moonlight, while he knelt over her with knees straddling her hips. Caspian had never wanted anything this badly.

Lucy traced her hand from his shoulder down his chest and stomach, and he was suddenly aware that Lucy was viewing his own flesh without the protective screen of any clothing, was caressing his hip with fingers as bare as his skin. 

Caspian leaned over his Queen and kissed her fervently, cupping her face in his hand. With no hesitation, Lucy slid one hand over his back and pulled him fully on top of her. It was impossible not to react when he was entangled in smooth bare limbs and curves that hugged every muscle. And it was his Lucy who was caressing him with eager searching hands and finding that aching fit of hard against soft. It was all too much, too sudden to take in with any rational thought, but that was all right too, for she welcomed each avid touch and gave soft happy sighs when he would discover the things that pleased her.

His desire ached for release, yet Caspian hesitated to press himself upon her so soon, even when every ounce of his flesh cried out for the sweet warmth of filling Lucy completely. She was so very near…He let out his frustration in a low groan. She immediately caught the sound.

"Love, what is it?" Her gentle epithet was as soothing as her body was maddening. And then she smiled under him. The vision was too beautiful to bear.

"I am only a man," he choked.

"I know," she whispered, touching him softly. "A man I have wanted for a long, long time."

Sweeter indeed. Caspian was overcome to hear her voice her desire for him. As clearly as her body had spoken of it, there was something powerful in hearing her say it. In knowing that this was all as she wanted it, that he didn’t have to hold back at all for fear of displeasing her. That he pleased her. 

She was right. She had won. 

Lucy caressed his hips with her hands, guided him into place. "Caspian," she breathed. "Now, please.”

_Yes!_

Caspian buried his face in her neck as he thrust up and into and _oh gods he was inside her and she was so tight, so wet, he would die from the heat and the pleasure…_

Next to his ear, Lucy let out a blissful whimper. "Please," she begged. It was his undoing.

Caspian plunged into her willing body over and over, too hungry for its deluge of delirious sensation to take her slowly. And yet Lucy fiercely matched him stroke for stroke with hips that rose and fell with his own, hands that clutched his back and dragged nails across his shoulders. The dreams of those long, hot nights in his empty bed, finding desperate release alone to the thought of ravishing the Valiant Queen, were nothing compared to the exquisite relief of burying his hard need in her warmth.

And what dreams could supply him with a Lucy who rippled and swelled under him like a stormy sea? With every panting breath and cry, she eagerly sought out the ferocity of his passion. She was water to his fire, their union an explosion of sparks and drops showering around them, and he was thirsty for more, more, he was burning up from the flames, he would be consumed soon…

Her expert hands guided him closer and rested on his hips, demanding a rhythm and angle that made her breath catch as he willingly gave it. Caspian turned his head so that he could see her beautiful face, the play of emotions across it, the transparent delight and longing that shone from her features. Even through the excruciating decadence of possessing her body so completely, he found himself transfixed by her pure vitality, her complete surrender to the joy of the moment. And he was the one to share this with her. The knowledge overwhelmed him. Feverishly Caspian doubled their tempo, sinking deeply into each motion that wrang a gasp from her lips.

She was pulling him with her, into her world of light and energy and life, as bright and pulsating as Narnia itself, and he would follow her to the ends of the earth... And he would follow her here. He had felt this way before, that he could not stand much more of this but did not want it to stop, yet this time it was fierce and demanding in its euphoria, a physical ache that cried out for satiation. Lucy felt it too; she was a wild and shaking force under him, desperately taking him in. Too much…it was too much to bear any longer… _gods she was all around him no no no he wanted her pleasure but she would not relent and this was LUCY and…_

Her fingers dug into his back and then Lucy was crying his name and trembling and shattering beneath him and the beauty of her ecstasy was unbearable. Overcome, Caspian felt blissful release consume him in torrential waves as he spent himself at last into her shuddering body. LUCY! his entire being cried. Shock after shock of pleasure beset him, and he flung his head back and let himself be lost. 

Slowly breath crept back into his lungs. Moving seemed superfluous, and his ears seemed to rush with wind. When he finally was able to move again, Caspian cradled a suddenly languorous Lucy with one arm while he reached for his cloak with the other and draped it over them. She nestled into his embrace and sighed happily, face aglow and lips curved in a smile.

She had won. And Caspian wanted her to win every time.


End file.
